


i have my reasons (call it my defense)

by MistressKat



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Demon Shane Madej, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25829893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressKat/pseuds/MistressKat
Summary: There are three reasons why Shane always does his solo run first, in every haunted, demon-infested, supernaturally inclined location they investigate.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 29
Kudos: 374





	i have my reasons (call it my defense)

**Author's Note:**

> It was only a matter of time. Title from [Temptation Waits](https://youtu.be/TAnFXdBGTNc) by Garbage for the painfully obvious reasons.

There are three reasons why Shane always does his solo run first, in every haunted, demon-infested, supernaturally inclined location they investigate. 

Ryan wants him to, is the easiest reason to articulate. Ryan says it’s because he needs to psych himself up, and whilst true, it’s not the whole of it. Ryan loves the anticipation, the squirmy dread-excitement-nerves swoop of his stomach almost as much as he loves (hates, loves, hates, _loves_ ) to fling himself into dark corridors and pitch black basements and night-time woods, to see if there is something there that’s going to scare him more than he’s already managed to scare himself, to see how much he can take. 

He can take a lot, Shane knows. 

He gives that to Ryan; the breathless, finger-twisting waiting for his turn, while Shane goes first, always first. 

But it’s also because he needs to see for himself, to check out each location, to be sure that Ryan _can_ take it. That the place is going to push him that far, to the delicious knife-edge of fear, but not over it, not into the pit that would cut him to ribbons. 

_Yes_ , he thinks (says, gleefully), this house is going to make Ryan lose his mind. This corridor, this solitary confinement cell, this abandoned bordello, they are going to drive a wedge of pure bright terror into Ryan’s heart and _he’s going to love it._

Shane does. 

Then there’s the third reason. Why he would have to insist going first anyway, if Ryan didn’t suggest it every time, if it wasn’t a well-rehearsed part of the show already. This is a reason he can’t let slip in post-show Q&A, can’t hint at on location, can’t let his body betray like it does with the other two when he laughs at every cry of terror, drinks up every panicked string of curses like it’s a cool mojito on a hot summer’s day. 

The third reason Shane always goes first is to let whatever, whoever is lurking in the dark know the rules, to warn them that Ryan is to be messed with only so far, just a little, and if any actual harm comes to him… Well, there won’t be hell to pay. Oh no. It will be something much, _much_ worse. 

Him.

“Let me introduce myself again,” Shane says. He’s standing stock still, right at the far end of a long corridor of an abandoned asylum. Apart for the weak yellow circle cast by his flashlight, it’s dark. “Just in case you missed it earlier. My name is Shane Alexander Madej.”

Something shifts in the shadows, all that accumulated human misery of the place shifting with it, like ripples in a lake after you toss a stone in. Shane presses the pause button on his camera, taking care to affect a neutral expression just before.

“Of course,” he continues, now safely off the record, “that’s only one of the many names I’m known by.” He grins, all teeth and sharp delight. It’s easy here, in a place seeped with darkness and terror, _dangerously_ easy, to peel back the layer of humanity just a little, just enough to let the things hiding here to get a glimpse of what’s underneath, _to make them understand._

The temperature drops suddenly, Shane’s next breath escaping in a white cloud. Apart for that, there is no sound; all rustling, whispering, scraping having come an abrupt end. 

“ _Good_ ,” Shane says. There’s a new ( _old_ ) timber to his voice like this, a resonance that seems to vibrate with the very stones of the place, the one word expanding, filling the space until the air is thick from it. He lets it rest, just for a few seconds, to drive his point home.

Then he pulls his power back, careless and casual like sweeping crumbs off the table. “Glad we agree. Now then, listen carefully…” His voice is back to normal now, with a cheery lilt to it. “This is how it’s going to go…”


End file.
